


Garters

by unwindmyself



Series: curious shapes shift in the dark [115]
Category: True Blood
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Dress Up, Fix-It, Gen, Plans, agency and choices!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-19
Updated: 2015-12-19
Packaged: 2018-05-07 14:45:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,043
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5460230
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/unwindmyself/pseuds/unwindmyself
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Nora, Sookie, and Eric in the final planning stages.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Garters

**Author's Note:**

> Part two, "Last Damn Night."

“Oh, good,” Nora exclaims, rushing over to Sookie and the girls.  “Your vampires will be around to claim you presently, I think.  Are you trading blood?”

Charlaine and Adilyn nod, and Braelyn explains, “Not more than we absolutely need to to make it look right, but yeah, we’re going to.”

“For safety,” Danika agrees.

“And believability,” Charlaine adds.

Nora nods, biting back her envy.  “Perfect,” she says.  “Then I’m going to ask the four of you to please wait here for them, that is, stay here, and I’m going to take Sookie into the house.”

“Uh,” Sookie says, and not for the first time she hates the radio silence she gets from vampires, but especially what she gets from Nora.  Nora who seems to ricochet between alarmingly obvious and utterly inscrutable.

“Ah, Eric,” Nora stammers, not used to being questioned in such a way that’s not actually a question but just an expression of doubt.  “He’s, we have, ah.  Things for you.”

“That’s, uh,” Sookie says.  “Cool, I guess.  Y’all need us, we’re inside.”

Nora smiles nervously and reaches for Sookie’s hand before she thinks better of it.  “He’s in the parlor,” she says instead, starting that way.

“Okay,” Sookie says.  “You, uh, you look real nice.”  Because it’s true, and also, if Nora is as vain as the other vampires of a certain age that Sookie knows and has known, that will be a satisfying conversation topic for her.

“Thank you,” Nora says, tossing her curled hair almost self-consciously.  “I thought it suitable for a nighttime wedding of storybook proportions.  You, ah, you look nice as well.  Is that a traditional fairy… style?”  She gestures vaguely to Sookie in a way that could mean her loosely curled hair or her floaty dress or both.

“Yeah, I guess so,” Sookie shrugs, holding the skirt out.  “The dress is, anyway.  It’s one of my godaunt Claudette’s leftovers from the fairy realm.”

“Not just the realm their club exists in, I take it?” Nora asks, unable to stop herself.

Sookie shakes her head.  “So there’s a whole separate plane of existence that fairies live on normally,” she explains.  “I went once, it’s kinda trippy.  Time goes at a different speed, there’s… well, the fairy queen decided to close the gates permanently so they couldn’t get out to the human world, and our bunch is one of the ones that got out.  They didn’t wanna stay stuck there, and I don’t blame them.”

“Oh,” Nora says, and she remembers why she rarely engages in conversations about subjects in which she is not an expert.  She can’t abide by this awful ignorant feeling.  “Well, anyhow, we, we raided what was left of Bill’s weapons stores.  I suppose they were meant for punitive measures, it’s not much different from what the Authority kept, though there’s quite a lot less of it.”

Sookie nods warily.  “For extra supplies and stuff,” she says.

“And stuff,” Nora agrees awkwardly.  “Are you by any chance wearing garters?”

“What?” Sookie exclaims, laughing.

“Garters, as for stockings,” Nora says, nonplussed.  “I’m sure you’ve seen the films where the femme fatale goes in with weapons strapped to her thigh?”

“So I’m the femme fatale?” Sookie asks, trying not to roll her eyes or bust up laughing.

“Well, you are the black widow murder bride tonight,” Nora says, and it might actually be playful.  It takes Sookie a second to decide, because she doesn’t expect that from Nora.

But once she has decided, she snorts, utterly unladylike.  “I guess I am.”

“But all levity aside,” Nora says, smirking, “when you’re looking for covert places to stash weapons on you when you’re wearing a gown, thighs are often the only viable choice.”

“Yeah, I guess so,” Sookie says thoughtfully.  “Good thing the more traditional fairy wardrobe isn’t as painted on as some of what our fairies like to wear.”

“Good thing,” Nora echoes.  They’re inside the house by this point, and Nora waves Sookie into the parlor.

“Our bride-to-be,” Eric calls, sounding amused.  For some reason, he’s wearing a formal suit’s pants and jacket and cummerbund without a shirt underneath, and once the women stop before him he bows grandly at the waist.  “Looking positively ethereal, Miss Stackhouse.”

“Looking positively like a fancy male stripper, Mr. Northman,” Sookie counters cheerfully.

“Is selective nudity not normal in the fairy community?” he asks archly.

“Okay, fair point,” Sookie shrugs, because she’s pretty sure she’s seen a similar ensemble (albeit with more sequins) on Claude.  “So, I hear you have garter guns for me.”

“Not guns,” Eric rolls his eyes.  “Nothing he could read on you.”

“He’s a telepath, not a metal detector,” Sookie cracks, folding her arms.

“But if you’re carrying something that unusual for you, you may think about it,” Eric points out.  It’s not a bad point, although it was originally Nora’s.

“And I won’t think about whatever you laid out?” Sookie asks.

Eric motions toward the table, where a black leather thigh holster is laid out, and inside one of the loops on that holster is a sharp silver dagger, glinting under the lights.

“I dunno what I was expecting,” Sookie says, laughing nervously.  “It’s, uh, is gorgeous the wrong word to use right now?”

“Use whichever word you like,” Nora murmurs, hesitantly resting a hand on Sookie’s shoulder in an attempt to be encouraging.  “It’s going to help bring about his end, very possibly, so that’s gorgeous.”

“So what am I supposed to do with it?” Sookie asks.  Curiously, she steps forward to touch the dagger, brows furrowed.  “Just strap it on and when the time comes, lift my skirt like I’m gonna give him a peepshow?”

“Unless that gown of yours has pockets,” Eric says.

“Y’know, it doesn’t?” Sookie replies with a bitter laugh.  “Finally a wedding dress that could really _benefit_ from pockets and no such luck.”

“We _could_ come up with some story about you have your vows written out and stowed in a keepsake under your dress or some such, but that might be a bit too involved,” Nora says.  “But it’s not meant to be the blow that starts the battle anyway.”

“Okay, you’ve gotta tell me what you’re thinking,” Sookie murmurs.

“Guys!” Adilyn shouts through the door.  “He’s here!”


End file.
